The Bookstore

"Let's check out this bookstore, Donna," she declares. She is an elegant woman in her mid-thirties, the same age as me, although I am far from elegant. About as far as one can be. She carries herself with the presence of someone who expects every eye in the room on her. And she may be the most beautiful creature I have even seen.

"Don't you get enough of books at work, Carol?" the other woman asks, presumably rhetorically, since Carol is already in looking at books.

Donna is a fundamentally attractive woman trying much too hard to be beautiful. To me, it just makes her look tawdry. I would guess she is in her late twenties, but she wears so much make up, it's hard to be sure. She is carrying a bag from one of the expensive clothing boutiques up the block.

All of my attention is on Carol. I usually watch my customers; it is my bookstore and I like to see what they notice and don't notice. But I am not watching today for market research, I am ogling this amazing creature who is in my store, only a dozen feet from me or so. Ogling her for my own prurient interests. I am hoping I will dream about her. Tonight and many nights beyond.

She is way out of my league. Or would be if I even had a league. I have not had a sexual partner in years. I have no idea who she is, but I feel honored just to have her in my store.

She turns to me and smiles. I feel like I will melt away in the glow of that smile. Except my nipples, which are now protruding almost painfully. And my pussy that is suddenly sopping wet. I put on a feeble smile and wave to her as best I can.

Donna spoils the moment, saying, "Can we go yet, Carol? I want to get home and then we can have some fun."

Carol winks at me and then turns back to Donna. "Yes, we can go. And I certainly hope to have fun with you."

It is two more hours before closing time for the store. I have several more customers, but none distract me from obsessing about Carol. At five on the dot, I flip the sign to closed and lock the front door. I go back to grab my things, but decide that can wait. I need something now. I sit on the stool in the small backroom and give myself relief from my lustful thoughts about Carol. Or more exactly, using my lustful thoughts of Carol to help me find relief. It is the first time I have masturbated at work in the eight years I have owned the store. It does nothing to quench the fire I feel for her.

A few days later, Carol comes back, alone this time. I am helping another customer when she enters, so I cannot ogle her to my heart's content. She wanders a bit. When the other customer leaves, she comes up to the desk.

"Is this your bookstore?"

I nod yes. I don't think I can speak.

"I love it. Exactly what a bookstore should be. Are you Mel then? Melanie I guess really."

I find my voice and say, "That's right. I liked the androgynous name when I opened this eight years ago. Customers can make of that what they want. And you are Carol, right? I think that is what your friend called you."

"Friend? Oh, Donna. She is more an indulgence of mine than a friend. The poor thing has never had an original thought in her life. But she can be fun, if you know what I mean. Somedays, I just need some mindless sex, so I take her out shopping and then she will entertain me for a few hours."

I can guess what she means, but certainly not from any first hand experience. The Donna's of the world pay no attention to me. Even if I could afford to take them shopping at fancy boutiques.

"Donna said you get enough books at work. May I ask what you do? You don't strike me as a librarian and you certainly aren't a clerk at a bookstore."

"I am an editor with a major publisher, dear. For some very high profile authors. I won't name drop, but you have several of my books on prominent display. I am going to browse a little more. I mostly just wanted to drop by when I wasn't being dragged away."

She does wander for a while. I ogle her every move the entire time. I am sure she knows I am watching her, but she seems to not care. After about ten minutes, she turns to me, smiles and waves goodbye. I wave back to her, barely able to breathe.

Not only is she gorgeous, she is into books. And a lesbian. And she was nice to me. She likes my store. I feel like a little bit of her glamour has rubbed off onto my store. Onto me.

I don't see Carol for an entire week, much to my disappointment. And when she does come in, she is with a man. A man of a substantial upbringing. A good match for her. And they seem very familiar with each other. This is someone she has known well for years. I note that neither of them are wearing wedding rings. She convinces him to buy a current bestseller.

"Trust me Eric, you will love it. I know exactly what you want all the time. And this is what you need now."

He seems convinced to buy the book, but whether he is convinced that he will like it or that she won't leave him alone otherwise, I can't tell. He brings it up and hands me a credit card. I glance at the name.

Eric Singer

She makes eye contact with me in an encouraging way, but he barely even notices I exist. Just a void that accepts his credit card and gives it and the book back to him.

"Would you like a bag for this, sir?"

"No, I will carry it. That way Carol will see I actually did buy her danged book."

He is looking at her the entire time he is speaking to me.

She is back again the next Friday. This time alone. She glances at what is getting top billing, then goes back to the literature section. I think she is looking for something and does not seem to find it. She walks back to me, empty handed.

"Do you have a Lesbian Literature section? I didn't notice one the other day when I was here."

"It's small, unfortunately, but it's there. Let me show you where."

She follows me over to one end of the general literature.

"These two shelves here are my entire Lesbian Literature section, I am afraid. Sorry that I don't have more."

"Oh, I already see what I was looking for. And I really have meant to read this one, too."

She is carrying the two books as we walk back to the cash register together. I start more of a conversation.

"I am sorry if I am being too bold, but I got the impression from what you said the other day that you were interested in women. Then you came in last time with the gentleman. And now you want these books. Are you bisexual?"

Carol laughs. "That gentleman was my brother. We are very close. He is probably my best friend. But before you wonder if there may be something odd going on there, neither of us is interested in the other's gender. You are an observant little vixen aren't you, with all the ogling you do of me."

I turn bright red.

"It's okay Mel -- or do you prefer Melanie? -- I enjoy the attention. Especially from you."

She hands me the two books, Orlando and Carol. Both classics in the field in my mind. But I am still processing her last comment. Why me? Surely I am a nobody in her life.

"My copy of Orlando reached an unfortunate demise. I came in here looking to replace it. And I have always wanted to read my namesake book. Why not now?"

As I take her credit card, she brushes her hand against mine. I look at her eyes. That was no accident. She is hitting on me. No one has ever hit on me. Ever in my life. And now Carol, the most beautiful woman I have ever met, is.

"Would you like a bag for these?"

I am too flabbergasted to say anything more clever. More engaging. I can't even manage to add her name.

"It's a little easier, especially with two books, so yes, please."

"Oh, I meant to ask you. Was that your book you pushed your brother to buy last week?"

"Nothing slides by you, does it? Yes it was. That is my most recent. I have done every one of her books."

"I loved the writing, so I guess you must do a good job."

"The best, Melanie. I am the best. See you again, soon."

I am confused. How can Carol be interested in me. Little old bookworm me. She is the most elegant and glamorous person I have ever talked to. And the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. How can she be interested in me?

But she was. This was not me fantasizing about her. This was real. Either that or everything is a hallucination and I am in the hospital on some medication. As hard as it seems to believe, Carol being interested in me seems the most likely scenario. If this is a hallucination, don't wake me up, please.

It is eight torturous days until Carol comes back again. Days where I do question my sanity. Did she really say she liked me watching her especially? And did she really brush my hand on purpose? Every day that passes brings me closer to believing I made it all up.

But when she does come in at the end of the day, I know it was all true. My heart is going pitter patter as I watch her come up to me.

"Do you have any lesbian erotica? Ideally something really smutty that my house would never touch. I broke completely off seeing Donna; this seems like the most appropriate replacement."

"I think I can help, but I don't have much of a selection. If you decide you want more, I can special order for you. But let me show you what I do have."

We walk to a different corner. I point at a rack. "This is all the erotica I carry. The top shelf is all lesbian. Feel free to look for a while."

I walk back up to the cash register. I have a mirror positioned to watch that corner, so it is easy to keep watching her. She seems to have picked a book and is coming back towards the register.

"Did you find something that will work for you?" I ask.

"I think so, but you might want to watch people reading too much in the store. This one almost looks used, it has been read so much."

"I have the mirror here to watch that section. A lot of people want erotica, but are embarrassed to buy it, so I have a notably higher shoplifting rate there. The mirror has helped. I catch someone once or twice a month trying to steal something from back there. I mention that I saw them take it and they are too embarrassed to do anything but buy it. But if it is too beat up, I will give it to you for half price. What did you choose?"

She sets down her book, Lesbian Cowgirls

I blush.

"Oh," she says, "It wasn't customers reading it, I gather. Will I enjoy it?"

"I suspect you will."

I ring her out at 2/3 off and give her the book in a bag.

"Now I know who I will be thinking about when I read this. Who has already enjoyed this book."

She leers at me as she says that and I am blushing again. She runs her hand along my arm and then says "See you soon!"

"I look forward to it. Enjoy your book!"

This time I have no doubt she is flirting with me. Flirting that is getting pretty serious.

I wake up each day wondering if she will come in today. I live for the days she comes in now. I would be heartbroken if she stopped coming. I could not go back to the world without her that I lived in just last month.

She doesn't come in on Friday or Saturday, the two most common days for her to come. I am starting to panic that she has moved on. Forgotten me.

But on Monday, she comes in, gives me a quick wave and heads back to the erotica section. I can see her pull several books off the shelf and look at each. She finally comes back up to the register.

"Can you help me pick one of these? I loved the last one, by the way. And I did think of you reading each of those stories. It made them much better.

"But these three look like my best bets. I wanted to go for a novel rather than the collection of short stories I got last time. For general literature, I know most of the books by reputation even if I haven't read them. But this is a different world, so I am lost. Any advice?"

"Well, I read another one by this author and it was okay, but not great. I have liked all the books I have read from this publisher. I don't know anything good or bad about your third choice. That's about all the help that I can give you."

"But this one has a picture on it that looks kind of like you. That will make it easier for me to think about you. I, of all people, know you shouldn't buy a book based on its cover art, but they hooked me this time."

"Should I ring just this one up for you?"

"Unless you can include yourself on the tab. Do you do private book readings or anything?"

"So just this book, then," I say, ignoring her response. "I will shelve these other two for you, so you can just leave them here."

"That one has cover art that looks somewhat like me. You could read it while I am reading this one and we could think about each other."

I hand her the book in a bag and say, "Have a nice day, Enjoy your book and I hope to see you soon."

"It will be very soon. And I hope to see much more of you then. Think of me while you read."

And she is off.

Oh my god. She just told me I should masturbate thinking about her while she masturbates thinking about me. Does she realize I have been masturbating thinking about her for over a month now?

I see her two rejected books sitting on the counter. I pick them up and carry them to the erotica section. I look at the first and file it quickly, properly. As I look at the second to get the author's name, I see the cover art. It does look somewhat like Carol. I bring it back up front. I will shelve it another day. It can come home with me tonight.

It is a two block walk back to my apartment, just a little studio, but it has been home for almost the entire eight years I have owned Mel's Bookstore. I feel comfortable in somewhat confined spaces, fortunately I guess, as I spend nearly every hour of my life either in my little bookstore or my little apartment. I tend to feel overwhelmed in a big place, especially one with lots of people.

I take my bra off and make myself a simple dinner. Simple food for a simple person, I think. After dinner, I decide to unwind with a bath. I am still amped up from my discussion with Carol, still in denial of her suggestion. But I bring her book back to the tub with me.

Once the tub is full of nice hot water, I slide in past the bubbles. I decided to splurge and added some bubbles and a scented oil. It feels so good just to soak. I reach for the book and start to read. It is not great prose, but it is getting me excited.

Finally, I need to do something about my excitement. I carefully set the book aside, seeing the cover art once again as I close it. I see the resemblance to Carol. I have one hand in my pussy and one pinching a nipple, as I close my eyes and think of her. Is she masturbating right now, thinking about me? I try to picture her nude, a hand in her crotch. She is becoming excited. Even her orgasm face is elegant, beautiful. I come in time with my imagined Carol's climax.

I lie mostly submerged, relaxing in the tub until the water is becoming too cool to be comfortable. Carol is all I can think about the entire time.

I climb out of the tub and dry myself off before pulling a night gown on. I decide just to go to bed, but I will read for a while before sleeping. I take the book with me. Carol's book. I read several more chapters before I masturbate again, visions of Carol in my head. I drift to sleep, still imagining Carol here in bed with me.

I sleep in the next morning. Tuesdays and Sundays are the days my store is closed. I left Tuesdays as a day for doctor's appointments and other real life needs that must be done on a weekday. The Sundays are for shopping and just to relax. It is a Tuesday, but I don't have any appointments, so I can just lounge around all day.

Which always means reading for me. I read a couple more chapters before I even get out of bed, starting my day with another orgasm. I never masturbate this much, but I am so horny thinking of Carol. I did dream about her last night.

I decide to read something else after breakfast. I am in the middle of a current best seller. As I read it, I wonder if this is another of Carol's books. It is a different author, but the same publishing house. It is well written and she says she is the best.

I read that book all day, taking a break for my standard PBJ sandwich that I eat every day. And an apple. I manage not to masturbate once during the day. Normally that shouldn't be a notable accomplishment, but it feels like one right now. By the time I have finished the book, I am ready for dinner.

I splurge, eating out at the little Italian restaurant around the corner. I go out every few weeks, always to this same restaurant. With no car and few other expenses other than my rent, I can afford the occasional treat, even on the small profit the store turns.

Usually, I spend dinner simply enjoying the food, sometimes watching a person here or a person there. Tonight, I notice all the couples dining together. Some very obviously in love. I have long resigned myself to a life of solitude, destined to die an old spinster. But now I can see myself as half of one of these couples, Carol sitting across the table from me.

My eyes tear up a bit as I realize how absurd I am being. It's true that she is interested in me. I still have no idea why. Maybe I am intended to become her replacement for Donna, someone she can have occasional sex with.

The thought of me being her next Donna seems ridiculous. From what I could tell, Donna is so different from me in almost every way. I don't have enough experience to know if I would be fun in bed. Donna was bubbly and extroverted and overtly sexual. None of those terms could vaguely be applied to me.

I finish my meal, pay and thank the waiter, and head back to my apartment, sated but a bit melancholy. Whatever Carol has done, she has me wanting more than I have been settling for.

I finish Carol's book in bed that night. I stare at the cover art for a few minutes before masturbating to my mental images of her yet again.

I fix myself breakfast in the morning, pack my lunch, and walk the two blocks to the store, bringing both of the books I have finished to be re-shelved. Borrowing books from the store is a perk I give myself.

Just before closing, Carol comes in. She notices her book behind me. I never got around to filing either book today.

"It looks like you took my advice, it definitely looks like someone has been reading it. Did you think of me?"

I nod.

"I was hoping you would. I was definitely thinking of you. I didn't come in here today for a book. I came in for you. I have a working dinner tonight with a promising new author, but I have time for a cup of coffee or something with you. I know the store closes in a few minutes."

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"More a pre-date, but yes."

"My answer is yes. Absolutely, yes. But I have to ask you a question of my own. What do you see our relationship being? Am I just a replacement for Donna? She seems so different from me it's hard to imagine that. But I am afraid to speculate beyond that."

"Well, I am not ready to propose to you right now, but maybe someday, if everything seems right, maybe then. I don't think we know each other well enough to really say anything yet. This may be our one and only time or, to quote Casablanca, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship. A romantic and lasting friendship."

"Let me go ahead and close down and then we can go. Did you have a place in mind? There is a little coffee shop around the corner, if that works."

"That would be great. I just want us to have a chance to get to know each other better outside your shop. This place will always cast you into a specific persona."

I close down the shop, grab my stuff, and we walk to the coffee shop. She orders a coffee and I get a tea. I never acquired much of a taste for coffee.

I start the conversation. "Why are you interested in me? You are beautiful, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And you are elegant and poised and have a presence about you. Everyone has to look at you when you enter them room.

"I am just the opposite. The ultimate plain Jane. A wall flower that no one ever notices. I am not sure your brother even noticed if I was a woman or a man. He certainly didn't notice the color of my hair or the shape of my face."

"Oh, he certainly would have noticed you if you were male. You lack a key part he selects for. But why am I interested in you? I am not sure. It could be that I am looking for the opposite of Donna as a rebound. I don't think so, but if it is, I apologize. I feel like I want you for what you are, not for what you are not.

"Maybe because I liked that you were obviously attracted to me even though you had no idea who I was. I don't like fangirls who want to sleep with me. And yes, they do exist. Way too many of them. Mostly wannabe writers. Some are intimately aware that they want to sleep with me to further their career. Others lack the self-awareness to even realize that's what they see in me.

"I was intrigued with you that very first day I saw you. The day with Donna. I think it was something in your eyes. There was real fire inside you, covered in that plain Jane shell. I am not interested in trying to change you. You are just a good example of do not judge a book by its cover. All our short conversations thus far have strengthened my initial perception.

"And I was pretty sure you were a lesbian given the way you looked at me. There was a hunger in those eyes. It was possible that you had not recognized this in yourself, but I managed to answer that in our conversations. I really did need a new copy of Orlando, though.

"Does that answer your question?"

"As well as it can be given how little we know of each other, yes. A far clearer answer than I could have expected."

"So what do you want out of a relationship right now?" she asks.

"Until last month, I didn't think I wanted a relationship. I certainly didn't expect to have one ever. Before you wonder, I have been with a few women in the past, but not for a very long time and none of them were real romantic relationships.

"I want to call your question ironic, but it's not, it's clearly causally linked. I splurged last night and went out to dinner at my local Italian restaurant. I always eat there alone. Last night, for the first time, I was envious of the couples eating there. I wanted to be eating there with you. I imagined being in love with you. I am currently in lust with you; we do not know each other well enough to be in love yet. And I fantasized that you were in love with me.

"In truth, that is what I want in a relationship right now. A month ago, I would have laughed at being interested in such a thing, but the laughter would have been at myself for imagining such a thing was possible. You and your flirting has already changed me to be able to imagine such a world. If we decide not to pursue anything beyond tonight, if I never see you again, I will cherish this moment with you for the rest of my life. I am so smitten with you right now, I would accept any kind of relationship you would offer me. Even just more visits to the store."

She reaches a hand out across the table and I take it in mine and we hold hands silently for a moment.

"Your fantasy is a big ask. If it comes true, I would be happy with it, too. But there are many pitfalls between here and there. I have to be realistic and say that it is unlikely. Love is always unlikely, yet it also happens all the time. So don't lose hope. I just don't want to set you up.

"This will definitely not be our last time together. I promise that. I am intrigued by the possibilities of us. I am also attracted to you tremendously. I wasn't just joking about masturbating thinking about you. You fill all my erotic thoughts at the moment.

"I am writing my personal cell on the back of my business card. Very few people have that number. Please don't drop it somewhere casually. Text me sometime soon, so I have your number. I will call you to arrange a real date. And maybe more. I hope more."

She pulls out a business card and writes on the back and hands it to me.

"I should go for my dinner now. Thank you for this. It was exactly what I was hoping for. And you were far more honest than most people ever would be. I appreciate your candor."

She leans over and kisses me on the lips. I could have died happy, my life ending with that kiss. I stay sitting at the table and watch her walk away. As I sit here, I realize that my first reaction to the kiss was a lie. I have far more to look forward to right now than I ever have. Even more than when I opened the store, that day full of terror and excitement about what I was undertaking.

I text Carol a short is Melanie. Just to give you my number. Thanks for the tea!

A moment after I hit send, I am horrified. The middle "sentence" is not a sentence. And Carol is a big time editor. Owning a bookstore, she is probably assuming I am reasonably literate and know better. She will certainly notice. I hope she doesn't care too much.

The evening is a blur. I cannot believe how this is unfolding. There can be no doubt now. It's not just my imagination. And it's not just flirting or teasing. She is interested in exploring a relationship with me. I understand that the future is uncertain, but even a glimmer of a future with her is beyond anything I could have hoped for in my life.

I am getting ready for bed when I hear my phone buzz that I have a new text. I hurry over to it and see a reply from out of dinner now. Signed another author! I enjoyed our chat. Call you tomorrow evening

My heart goes pitter patter. I have to wait until tomorrow evening to talk to her, but for the first time since I saw her that day with Donna, I know I will interact with her again. And I know when.

I manage to get through the day, but I am high strung, almost jumpy. I check five times during the day that my phone has plenty of charge. I limit myself to toast for dinner; I am too nervous to eat anything more. Time that evening is crawling by. I check my phone at least once every fifteen minutes, both to make sure I didn't miss a call and to see how much time has elapsed.

Around seven, she finally calls.

"Carol?"

Is this an okay time to talk

"This is perfect."

I decide not to tell her I have been unable to do anything else waiting for her.

How was your day?

"A bit of a blur. I was thinking about you calling. A few customers, but not too busy at the store. How was yours?"

Good. I got another manuscript to start editing. The first pass and the last are my favorites. So do you have anything planned for Saturday evening? Say seven?

My heart is pounding so hard I am afraid she can hear it over the phone.

"No, that would be nice. Seven works fine. What's the plan?"

I was thinking dinner at least and we can decide if we want to do something more after that. Do you want to eat at a fancy restaurant or something simpler? We could do your Italian restaurant, if you want.

"Not super fancy, please. That would intimidate me right now. But I would love to try some place new."

I think I know a place that will work. I will text you the address. Oh, do you have a car?

"No, I live near the store, so most everything is easier for me without the car. Do I need a car to get there?"

There is probably public transportation, but that can be a pain. I can pick you up at your place if you want.

"That would be really nice. I will text you the address. Just text me when you are here and I will come down."

Okay, I will be there around 6:30 on Saturday.

"I am looking forward to it."

As soon as the call ends, I text her my address.

I want to yell in the air, in jubilation not anger. We are going on a real date. A date date. And maybe more after.

I spend the rest of the evening planning what I will wear that night. I don't want to look too different. Maybe she likes the way I look. But I want to move towards coming out of my plain Jane shell a bit. And it has to be pretty. And I need nice underwear, just in case. Maybe I will do some clothes shopping after work tomorrow. I decide on the best things I have and decide to see what I can find tomorrow evening.

I am so excited, I have a hard time getting to sleep. When I do finally get to sleep, I dream about Carol all night. Very erotic dreams. I want to know what she actually looks like. Oh my god, should I try to shave myself? I decide to go with my current natural mane down there. I do shave my armpits and my legs in the morning.

I am excited all day at the store. It is a busier than usual day, even for a Friday, my second best day of the week. One regular commented that I looked happier than he had ever seen me.

Shopping that evening, I find a nice pink silk blouse. Pretty, but not too showy. And I can leave a button undone and show more cleavage than I usually do. Than I ever do, to be honest. And I find a nice lacy bra and panty set. This is an unbudgeted expense that I will need to make up somewhere. But it is worth it.

I sleep soundly Friday night, but Saturday morning I wake up a ball of nervous energy. In my shower, I again think about shaving my pubes, but still decide against it. It turns out to be one of my busiest non-holiday days the store has had and I am too busy all day to think too much about tonight. At five-fifteen, I have to tell the remaining customers they need to make their decisions because I will be closing the store for the night. On other busy days, I would just stay open until the crowd thins out. But I need time to get changed.

Once I have cleared the shop and locked up for the weekend, I hurry home. I take a very quick shower, being careful not to get my hair wet. I get dressed in my new purchases, along with a knee length charcoal skirt, white sandals, and hose. I realize I should probably put some sort of make up on, but I am not sure what I have or if I could apply it reasonably in my current state of excitement.

My phone announcing she is here resolves any lingering thoughts of it; I hurry down to meet her on the street. I don't know cars at all, but this one looks expensive. I climb in and she leans over for a kiss before we zoom off. She is what I consider an aggressive driver. It is about a fifteen minute trip to the restaurant.

The restaurant is more fancy than I ever eat at, but not so pretentious that I feel uncomfortable in my skirt and blouse. She doesn't remark one way or the other on my outfit, either verbally or in any expression that I notice. I guess it is about what she expected.

The food itself is superb, maybe the best meal I have ever eaten in my life. I tried not to look at the prices on the menu, but I could never afford to eat here. But it is worth it. Especially when I don't have to pay.

The conversation is even better. We start out with what I think is a safe topic, what books we like and don't like and which ones we think are over-rated. As I rattle off my opinions, I realize I could be insulting her. Did I dis one of her books? I have little idea of what she has edited. I finally ask her about which of the books I have mentioned were hers. Only three were, all ones that I praised for their writing. She did say she was the best.

We tell each other some of our personal history, where we grew up and where we went to college and the like. Neither of us ever married. She clearly has had far more relationships than I have, but only one that was serious, with a woman named Lexi. There is still a lot of emotion in her about Lexi. She is concerned that she may scare me off with her number of past lovers, but her past doesn't bother me at all.

We each have a glass of wine with dinner. Then we have dessert, followed by her coffee and my cup of tea. By the beginning of dessert, we are holding hands across the table.

After she has paid the check, she asks, "Should I take you back to your place or mine?"

I look her in the eyes and say, "I think yours."

We climb back into her car and she roars off, heading downtown. We pull into a parking garage at the base of one of the skyscrapers. She leads the way to the elevator, pushing the button for the fifty-seventh floor. Once on the elevator, she pulls me to her and we kiss passionately, our bodies pressed together.

After we get off the elevator, she leads the way once again. It looks like there are four units on the floor. She unlocks a door and I step into a fabulous room. It is an open layout containing living room, dining room, and kitchen bending around the corner. There are floor to ceiling windows the entire way around. They open to a panoramic view of the city below, sparkling in the night. My entire apartment would fit comfortably in the living room.

"Wow. This is amazing!"

"I told you I was the best. There are certain perks that come with that. Now that I am not driving, I am going to have another drink. Would you like anything?"

"I guess another glass of wine would be nice. I don't have much experience with anything else. And I am not used to drinking much, so I probably need to limit how much I drink tonight."

"Don't worry, I am not trying to get you drunk. I think we both already want the same thing tonight. And it will be more fun with just a touch of alcohol, but not too much."

She goes into the kitchen and opens a bottle of white wine, already chilled, and pours us each a glass. She heads into the living room area and relaxes on the couch. I find a spot next to her and we sit silently, sipping our wine and looking out over the city.

After several minutes, Carol breaks the silence, saying, "I can spend hours some evenings looking out these windows. I really have two very different parts of my job, actual editing and babysitting the authors. Each have their own rewards and their own pain points. And they wear me down in two very different ways. Just staring out here is kind of the antidote to either of them."

"It is almost mesmerizing looking out here. But either aspect of your job is so much more intense than my job is. But looking around here, also much more financially rewarding."

"It is that, I have to admit."

We stare out a little longer and then she turns to me and says, "Come here."

I lean towards her and we kiss passionately. She reaches down and rubs my breast through my clothes. I am having trouble staying focused on the kiss while she does that. She stops and says, "This will be more comfortable in the bedroom."

She takes my hand and we walk together to a bedroom. Like the rest of the unit, it is amazing. She pushes a button and curtains pull across the windows.

"We don't need to be the entertainment for some creep with a telescope."

We are standing next to the bed and we kiss again, holding each other tightly. This is heavenly, already beyond my wildest fantasy. She breaks the hug and starts to unbutton my blouse, pulling it gently off me before setting it softly to the side. She reaches behind me to unfasten my bra, sliding that off and dropping it on top of my blouse.

She kisses me again and then drops lower to bring her attentions to my breasts. Sucking on one nipple and then the other, gently squeezing them with her hands. My whimpers are barely audible as she is pleasuring my girls. She reaches a hand behind me, unzipping my skirt, which slides to the floor with a quiet swish.

My legs are becoming shaky and she gently pushes me over onto the bed. She sits next to me on the bed and we kiss again. I am becoming lost in a haze of ecstasy. She pushes me backwards and then shifts around to kneel on the floor in front of me. She grabs the top of my panty with both hands and I lift my hips so she can slide them off.

I spread my legs as wide as they go, allowing her maximal access. She takes advantage, sliding herself in between them. I feel my lips being spread by her fingers and then a tongue licking around my folds. The tongue soon finds my pleasure nub and my whimpers become moans. As she is licking, a hand comes up and fondles a breast, squeezing it sometimes and pinching a nipple others. It is becoming hard to breathe as my moans have become louder, each a beg for release. I feel fingers entering my tunnel, penetrating me repeatedly as my clit is screaming its pleasure in my brain and throughout my body.

And then it washes over me. My moans stop, replaced by one long groan. A groan that announces the most powerful orgasm I have ever experienced. I am awash on a beach. But it is not the waves lapping at me, it is her tongue, back to my folds. I lie there luxuriating in the feeling for a moment, until a soft voice commands me, "My turn."

I sit up and encourage her to stand. I unbutton her shirt and unfasten her bra, setting them on the floor next to mine. I try my best to please her breasts. I have so little experience with the kind of gentle lovemaking she just showed me. But her ragged breathing reassures me that she is enjoying my machinations.

I loosen her skirt and let it fall to the ground. I leave her standing as I pull down her panty, exposing her full shaven pussy. I run a finger up her slit, just barely touching the inner lips hidden within. I make a second pass with the same finger, this time forcing it through into her inner sanctum. When I reach her clitoris, she moans.

I crouch down on the floor, my body pressed against her legs. I reach my hands up and hold her backside while I bring my face up to her privates, forcing my tongue in until it finds her pleasure nub. She moans as I lick it. When I feel her legs weakening, I turn us around, letting her lie back on the bed while my tongue continues its work.

Following her earlier lead, one hand goes to her chest while two fingers on the other drive in and out of her. I can sense she is getting close; I pinch a nipple much harder than I have been while I gently bite her clit. She is gone. I continue licking her while my arm, still pressed against her abdomen, feels her convulsing against it. Her muscles squeeze my fingers inside her as her climax rages on.

Once she has calmed, I climb up on the bed and kiss her. She returns the kisses passionately, hugging me tightly. We finally stop kissing and just lie there holding on to each other for maybe twenty minutes.

I finally break the silence. "Dinner was probably the best meal I have ever eaten. But the after dinner part was immeasurably better. Thank you for everything."

"You don't think the after dinner part is done yet, do you?"

She pulls me close to her again, pressing our bodies tightly together. The feeling of her body against mine is divine. She kisses me and then removes one arm from around me, the newly liberated hand going in search of my crotch and the ultimate spot within.

As I have much of the evening, I follow her lead and find her clit. We are kissing as we each approach a second climax. Mine comes first; she presses our lips together as I scream my ecstasy into her mouth. She is only a moment behind me. Our orgasms echo back and forth between us as our bodies tremble against each other.

We snuggle until we are both growing sleepy.

"I need to roll over. I can only sleep on my side. Would you like me to face you or face away?" I ask.

"Roll away from me, I will curl around you."

She does curl around me, her arm across my abdomen, holding me tight, her breasts pressed against my back. I have never fallen asleep cuddling with someone. I think it feels more connected to the other person than sex itself. I drift off, more contented than I have ever been.

I wake up in the middle of the night, needing the bathroom. It takes me a minute to figure out where I am; I have slept every night for eight years in the same apartment. I manage to find the bathroom in the light of the city dimly seeping in past the curtains. Like everything else here, the bathroom is stunning, of course, and huge. As I come back to bed, Carol mumbles "Pull the blanket over me, please."

I do pull the blanket over her, she mumbles some form of thanks, rolls over away from me, and falls back asleep. The shock of realizing where I am, what happened last night has me too awake to join her slumber. I lie in bed and think.

Was this a one night fling? Will she move on now that she has bedded me? Or is this the new reality for me? Am I going to move in with her? She certainly isn't moving in with me. How soon should I be willing to move in? Would I be willing to give up my apartment? How would I get to the store every morning from here? Are we just going to be weekends together, weekdays in our old lives? This is all new territory for me. From our discussions at dinner last night, I think she has only had one relationship serious enough to live together, but several that fit the weekends together mode. They never progressed past that.

What do I want out of this? If I am honest, I am hoping for the fairy tale, the "and they lived happily ever after" story. And happily ever after never meant two apartments. But am I really ready to live with someone? Is she ready to live with me? I suspect, at best, she will want a period of weekends together so we can get to see how well we co-exist.

Do I love her or am I still just lusting after her beauty? I really enjoyed our conversations, our time together. Is that enough?

I thought the sex last night was spectacular. But I can count the number of times I have had sex on two hands. Maybe this was just ordinary to her. Or even disappointing. She didn't seem too disappointed last night. How will she react to me when she wakes up?

And what am I going to wear in the morning? I guess I will have to wear the same clothes. That may feel a bit icky, especially as the day wears on. I guess if I am going to be here more often, I will need to bring some clothes over. And a toothbrush. Yuck, I can't brush my teeth this morning.

I am going to drive myself crazy worrying like this. If she gives me cab fare in the morning and I never see her again, I still just had the best evening of my life. By a wide margin. Anything on top of that will be gravy. And I got to see how the other half lives. No matter what, I will never forget her or tonight.

I curl around her and put my arm across her belly. She mumbles "mmmm" at me and snuggles her backside into me. The luxurious sensation of her skin against mine melts enough of my worries away that I soon fall back asleep.

I begin to stir as I feel her move. There is daylight filtering into the room now.

"You are awake now, sleepy head," she says as I open my eyes. "I didn't want to move too much and disturb you."

She leans over and gives me a tender kiss and then sits up. I guess at least it's not a "It was fun. There is cab fare on the table." dismissal.

She speaks again. "I think I would like a shower. Would you like to join me? There is plenty of room. After the view, that may be my second favorite thing about this place."

"A shower sounds good. And so does the company."

She takes my hand and we walk together to the shower. I at least found the bathroom last night, so I don't feel like she is leading me. She hits some buttons on a control panel and water is rushing out into the tile and glass room that serves as a shower for her. It is bigger than my entire bathroom. Of course, I don't think two people would comfortably fit in my bathroom.

We walk in under the rushing water. It feels so good pouring over my head and my shoulders. We kiss as the water cascades over us. The kiss is becoming more passionate. She walks me back against the wall and reaches a hand down to my clit. I find hers. We climax together with my back against the wall of the shower. I have never felt closer to anyone in my life.

As I am recovering, she gets some soap on her hands and begins to wash my breasts and my abdomen. I lean back and enjoy the sensations. She pulls me into the full stream of water to rinse off. I push her back into the other wall, grabbing some soap and washing her front.

"Would you like your back washed too?" I ask.

She turns around and I soap and scrub her back. I pull her under the main stream of the water and help rinse all the soap off.

"May I wash your hair as well?"

My enthusiasm to do so is genuine. I am feeling very loving towards Carol this morning. But I am also aware that interpersonal grooming is a primordial bonding experience. I want to feel more bonded to her and her to feel bonded to me. And she started down this path by washing me.

She hands me the shampoo and turns away from me again. I put some shampoo in her hair and massage her scalp as I wash her hair. As we come back under the main stream of water, I help rinse her hair out.

"Would you like yours as well?" she asks.

I turn my back to her and tilt my head back. I do let my stylist wash my hair, only because I love the feeling of someone pampering me that way. This is definitely bonding me tighter to her.

When we get out of the shower, we help dry each other off. She tells me, "I got an extra toothbrush with the hope you would be spending the night. I hate getting up and not being able to brush my teeth."

"Thank you so much. I was kind of dreading that this morning. With all the kissing we have done, it would seem like sharing a toothbrush would be okay. But it's not."

"You are right. It should be, but it definitely isn't."

As we are going back into her bedroom, she says, "I know how uncomfortable it is to put on dirty clothes in the morning, especially after a shower. I did not go so far as to buy new clothes for you this morning. I don't think we are close enough in size for you to where any of my clothes. If you want, you can postpone it for a little while and we can eat breakfast in the nude or I can lend you a bathrobe."

"I will go ahead and get dressed. I am going to have to bite the bullet on that one sooner or later."

We get dressed. She, of course, has a huge walk-in closet filled with stunning clothes. She picks out a nice casual outfit and I put on my clothes from dinner last night.

We head out to the kitchen and she says, "Do you like omelettes? I can make them with cheese, tomatoes, and fresh basil if that sounds good to you."

"That would be delicious."

"Orange juice?"

I nod.

She pulls out two oranges and puts them in a juicing machine and pours us each a glass of fresh squeezed. I watch as she makes the omelettes. She is clearly very comfortable in the kitchen.

"Do you cook much?" I ask.

"I love to cook. Although it is not much fun to cook for yourself. So I like to cook for people when I can. I would like to make you dinner for our next date, if you don't mind eating in."

"I don't mind at all. I eat in almost every breakfast and dinner. But I only make myself very simple meals, like grilled cheese and salads. I have never really mastered cooking anything fancier. But as you said, cooking for yourself is not the same and I always eat alone."

A few minutes later, we are sitting eating our breakfast at the kitchen table.

"I don't want to push, but where do you see us going from here?" I ask, starting the delicate conversation.

"I don't think we are ready to move in together, if that is what you are asking. But that is significantly more likely than it was a few days ago. Or even eighteen hours ago. Right now, I need you to think in terms of what do WE see ourselves becoming. It needs to be an us if it is going to work, I need a partner, not a lap dog."

"Okay, I hear that. It is just hard. You have so much more experience than I do. This is the farthest into a relationship I have ever been, if I didn't make that clear last night. And you have all this - "

I spread my arms out to the apartment.

"And you have a presence that overwhelms everyone else in the room. It is a bit intimidating to me."

"I need you to step beyond that. I need a life partner, someone who I can treat as my peer and who will treat me the same. I am enjoying our time together immensely and I am coming to care for you deeply very quickly, but I am definitely looking for that special person right now. I think you could be them. I am hoping time together will erase that awe and let you deal with me as just another person. I need you to consciously try to move to that. If you can't, as much as it will pain me, I will need to move on."

"Thanks for being so honest with me. I will try. I think you see more in me than I see in myself and I will need to work on that as well. So what's the plan in the short term?"

"I only want to think a week ahead or less right now and see how this develops. I want to spend the day doing something fun with you. I know the store is closed. Do you have any other commitments?"

"No, I am all yours. Or we are all each others, I guess."

"How does a day at the art museum sound?"

"I would love that. Can we stop off at my place, so I can get something more comfortable to wear? And something that is not already worn."

"Of course we can. And as I said, you should stash some clothes here for nights when you do spend the night. Which is hopefully frequently."

I think about what I should wear during the drive over to my apartment. I end up deciding on the green blouse I was originally going to wear for dinner last night if I had not bought the new pink one, and based on what Carol chose, a pair of white slacks. I also put on more comfortable shoes to spend all day on my feet. I pack two other blouses and two pairs of panties in a small bag and bring that back down to the car. I toss the bag in the back seat and we head off to the museum.

We spend a few hours perusing half of the museum, commenting to each other about what we like and don't like. And as she hoped, getting more used to each other. We finally become weary and decide to take a break for lunch at the museum cafe. We both choose salads, mine a chef's, hers a garden, and ice teas.

"So what is the plan?" I ask, between bites of lettuce.

"The store is closed on Tuesdays, correct?"

I nod.

"How about I pick you up at the store at the end of the day Monday and we have dinner at my place. I will take the day off on Tuesday and we can do whatever we decide that morning."

"That would be amazing. But I was thinking about after lunch today."

"I am open. What would you like to do?"

I suggest, "There is one more gallery I would like to see and then something more relaxing. Maybe looking at flowers in the park and then just sitting and enjoying the weather today?"

"That sounds like a good plan."

I enjoy my gallery, then we leave the museum for the park. We wander through the formal gardens before we find a bench in the shade to relax and enjoy the view. I reach over and we hold hands as we sit quietly, taking in the day.

"What are you thinking?" I ask her after we have been sitting for some time..

"Mostly trying to understand where I am. Where we are. Why am I anxious to make this work so quickly? What am I really looking for? Am I being fair to you?"

"Have you come to any conclusions?"

"I keep asking myself why I seem to have a timetable in my head for how quickly we have to mesh. I have no answers yet. I won't look for the next candidate without moving on from you. I will not string you along. I will tell you when I have given up on us and I will not even entertain thoughts about anyone else until then. I think that is only fair.

"But I am not convinced that I will give you a fair chance to build your case before I feel the need to move on. That would be unconscionable to me. And that makes me want to call us off and give up on looking for someone. But I know you don't want to give up on us."

"I absolutely do not. Give me a chance, please."

She picks her thoughts up again, "I need a partner for my own sake right now. Maybe it is the start of a midlife crisis. Maybe it is a bizarre reflection of the baby clock ticking in my head -- don't worry, I am not looking to get pregnant. Maybe just the stress of work and having to be the best all the time is beating me down. I need someone who I can come home to, who will accept me for who I am, regardless of any accomplishments or money or anything. Who will love me unconditionally."

"I think I can be that person."

"I am hoping so. I would like to sit here for a little while longer and just watch and ponder my life. Then maybe we can go to your Italian restaurant for dinner. I suspect you want to sleep in your own place tonight so you can open up the store easily in the morning. And I have a long day tomorrow. If I am picking you up at 5, I should probably do my first read of that manuscript tonight."

I am thinking about me, about her, about us as well. Am I in love with her? Would I be willing to move in with her next week? Next month? Next year? What would I do about the store? I have put eight years of my life into the store and its business is slowly growing as I gain repeat customers. And if I move in with her, I do not want to be a kept woman. I will never make the money she does, but I want to earn my own way.

After a while, we get up and walk back to her car, quiet, but hand in hand. She seems to gain determination when she sits in her car; soon we are roaring through the streets. I wonder how many tickets she has gotten.

We find a parking spot near the restaurant and we walk to it. The maitre'd, who recognizes me as a regular, is surprised to see me with a friend. He gives us the same table I had a few nights ago.

As soon as we are seated. I reach a hand across the table to her and she holds on to it.

I look her in the eyes and start a conversation.

"Two things you have said are combining in me right now for what I am about to say. You said I need to be more assertive with you, treat you as a peer rather than someone up on a pedestal, And you are worried you will feel compelled to move on before I have had a fair chance. That means I need to fight for my position, my right to be with you. Because I have no doubts, no concerns that I want to be with you. I have concerns about how it will work, but those are things that can be resolved if we are together.

"So this is my pitch to you. I expect you hear pitches from aspiring authors about why you should work with them all the time. Many of those will be more polished; authors are experts at finding the perfect words, after all. But none will be more heartfelt. They can't be. This is all of my heart I am pouring into this plea.

"I know you have been deep in your own thoughts about the potential of us. I have been doing my own thinking. Over the last twenty four hours, I keep asking myself if I am in love with you. I have never been in love, so I am not sure what to expect. I know from the first moment I saw you, I was in lust with you. I wanted your body so badly. I wanted to give my body to you. I have masturbated more in the last month than any other year of my life. And every time thinking about you.

"And I enjoy our time together, more than anything I have ever enjoyed in my life. More even than our sex last night, which is a very high bar to surpass. I am not experienced in many of these things, sex or love or romance, not like you are, but I feel things I have never felt before. I convinced myself overnight that I was not in love with you. Maybe it was self defense in case you tossed me out this morning, having had your romp with me. I was prepared to live with that, if it came to it.

"But when you talked about breaking up with me at the park, I felt devastation. Just looking into your eyes, I feel euphoria. Is that love? I don't know. You are the one with all the experience. All I know is being with you is the only thing that matters to me now. If that isn't love, I need a new word. Love is the only one I know."

She replies, "I know I am supposed to reply 'I love you' to being told, but I am too confused right now. I don't understand myself at all. This is not like me. I am always in control, but I am not now. I am careening around. I don't want to lose you, but I think I am afraid of keeping you."

We pause for a moment and the waiter grabs the opportunity to take our order. Carol has not even looked at the menu, but just asks for chicken piccata, a salad, and a glass of Chianti. I order my usual spaghetti. I add a Chianti to keep her company.

"From what you said, I think I have two competitors for your love and I need to fight both of them for you. One is the mythical future perfect mate that you have constructed in your head. I think I understand you on that one. Fighting a dream, a mirage is hard, but I am prepared to try.

"But my other competitor is much harder for me, because it's inside you and I don't know her. And I need you to help me win this battle. You have not let go of Lexi, who I think was the only woman you had loved before now. I am not ruling out that you are in love with me at this moment. In fact, I am praying you are. But your love for Lexi is preventing anyone else from getting as close. Can you tell me about her, about your relationship, about what happened?"

"I don't know I can."

"You worried about being unfair to me? This is being unfair. You tell me I need to treat you like a peer, but you won't reciprocate. I opened myself up to you. You left me no choice. But I cannot win this battle for you if I cannot understand you. And Lexi is a big part of who you are. I need to know or we are not going to work. And neither will any future me. You need to make a choice. Do you really want a partner or not? This is too big of a relationship issue to be off limits. If you cannot tell me, we might as well say goodbye right now, as painful as that would be for me. And I think for you as well."

Carol takes a deep breath and looks into my eyes.

"Everything you say is true and I need you right now. I am trying to find the strength to talk about this. Lexi was and still is the most painful part of my existence. Lexi was nothing like you and everything like you. She was outgoing socially and even a bit of an exhibitionist. But you two share a soul. That is what I saw in your eyes that first day at your store. That's why I had to know you. There is a goodness at the core of both of you. Honesty and compassion. The way you opened your heart to me a few minutes ago feels just like her. I loved her, too.

"We lived together for three wonderful years. They were also the years that I was establishing my career. I let that come between us. At one point, she laid down an ultimatum that she needed me one night. I told her I had to meet with an author first and we could be together after dinner. Like Wednesday night, dinner ran very late. By the time I got home, she had moved out. At first, I tried to move on without her, thinking I was strong enough to not need anyone. Finally, I realized I needed her, so I went looking for her to try to win her back. But I was too late."

"Had she found someone else?"

"No, she had killed herself."

Carol starts sobbing as she says that. I get up and walk around the table to hold her. She stands up and leans on me and sobs her heart out. I just hold her. I don't know what else to do. After several minutes, she is calming down.

The waiter has started to bring out our food and I tell him to just set it down on the table. That breaks the moment enough for Carol to regain her composure and we sit down back in our seats.

I present both hands across the table and she holds them both tightly.

"You are the first person I have ever told that to."

"You have been holding that in all this time?" I say, shaking my head. "It is a wonder that you have held together at all. What did you do?"

"I threw myself into my work with a vengeance. When that left me hollow, I tried girl toys like Donna. When those got tiresome, I tried to find a real partner. But none of them got through my shell like you have. After I broke up with each one, I would go back to another girl toy. This is why I was wondering this afternoon if I am being fair to you. Because until I let go of Lexi, no one else can come in all the way. And I am looking for someone to do that.

"Some part of every other possibility was interested in being with the Carol Singer, the best editor in the publishing world. They wanted a piece of the fame and glory. But you don't. I am not sure you wouldn't be happier if I was Carol Singer, middle school librarian."

"Part of me would be. I don't really want your world, your glamour. I am willing to tolerate it to be with you. I admit that second time you came in the store, the first time without Donna, I felt like some of your glamour and elegance rubbed off on the store. And on me. And I can see the appeal to it. But, in my core, I don't want glamour or fame. It's not who I am. So the attraction of that side of you fades quickly for me. If I thought that was all you were, we would not be sitting here now."

"I can't replace Lexi. If that is what you are looking for, you are not being fair to me. I am not her reincarnated into a person just for your redemption. I appreciate you believing that I am a fundamentally good person and a caring person. And what did you say, oh yeah, an honest person. I think all of those things are true. But I think many people believe them to be true about themselves. Maybe most people. If you give me a chance, I will care for you and love you and support you. That's all I have to offer. I hope it is enough."

"I think that is all I can ask for. And I think I love you too. We have many logistics to work out if we are going to make this work. But logistics are do-able. We can find a way. And I am probably going to burden you with my grieving for Lexi. I don't think I ever allowed myself to do that. Some of it may be ugly."

"I can give you support through that. Our love can bring you past it. Can bring you the healing you need. All I ask is to not shut me out. Let me help."

"I promise I will. I want you in my life. All the way in."